


Closer

by homeboytroy



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: M/M, alternately called the gang learned to cope without him and now Dennis is broken, but that's not very catchy, four years later, post Dennis' Double Life, post season 12
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 04:37:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10677834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homeboytroy/pseuds/homeboytroy
Summary: What happens when the prodigal son returns.





	1. Chapter 1

It had been four long years, but Mac could still sense his presence. His skin prickled like a ghost was passing through him. His smile froze and whatever the beefcake in front of him had been saying went through one ear and out the other as he scanned the bar. He shot a vague, flirty smile to the guy picking up his drink. A lot of gay guys started coming in after word got out about Mac, and it seemed to help business if he turned on the charm. He was beginning to think he was imagining things when he caught sight of a familiar mop of stylishly messy hair. He dropped the bottle he was holding and mumbled something to Dee, pushing through the throng of people into the cool night air.  
Mac couldn't believe his fucking eyes when his worst fears (hopes, desires?) were confirmed at the sight of Dennis slipping into the back of a cab. “Den!” He shouted, desperately trying to be heard above the general hubbub from inside and the floaters around the bar. Dennis didn't react except to flinch, and did he seem to hurry when he slammed the door shut? “Dennis, I swear to god.” He'd gotten a lot more lax about the Catholic thing since he'd started seeing a shrink. He just barely managed to put a hand on the cab before it started taking off. He punched the shitty paint job and the car jolted to a halt. The window rolled down jerkily, like he had to use a hand crank. Fuck, how old were the taxis in Philly?  
“You want somethin’, guy? I've got a fare already.” The cabbie spat dangerously close to Mac’s shoes, and Mac saw red.  
Mac flashed an easy smile that he didn't fucking feel and opened the back door. “I'm part of the fare, dipshit, or did my _lover_ forget to tell you?” He slid in beside Dennis fucking Reynolds, who seemed to have shrunken immensely since _that night_ in the bar. “Vic Vinegar, bro, nice to meet you,” he said automatically, as if Dennis hadn't abandoned him for the fucking wife, two point five kids, white picket fence American dream that was nowhere goddamned _close_ to Den’s dreams (he lived with the fucker for close to two decades, he would know if that was at any time on the horizon), and waited for Dennis to stop looking like a ghost and respond.  
What felt like an eternity amounted to a few awkward minutes in real time (the irritated cabbie was keeping time) before Dennis opened his mouth. “Hugh Honey, at your service. We’re real estate moguls. We’re going to buy this shithole,” he jerked his finger back at the bar “and make millions flipping it.”  
The joy that coursed through him at having Dennis play along was laced with a cold dose of reality. Dennis didn't know anything about the gang’s livelihood anymore. Paddy’s was clawing its way out of the shithole category with Mac, Charlie, Dee, and by association, Frank’s hard work. Hearing Dennis call it shit like it was old times felt like a sucker punch to the gut.  
The cabbie, however, clearly didn't give a shit that this was an important moment for his passengers, nor that he was in the middle of a reunion that was four years coming, because he just grunted and started the car, muttering under his breath about fuckin’ gays and where am I goin’, anyway.  
Dennis hesitated, shoulders sagging as he named a really shit hotel in south Philly. Somewhere Mac knew Dennis never would have gone within fifty feet of before he'd run off to play daddy. He carefully ignored the part of him that had ached to be a father, too. Never mind the idle fantasies he'd had that Dennis crushed before Mac had even had a chance to really even entertain them.  
Mac gave Dennis a look, which Dennis pointedly ignored. Mac’s brows rose, and he sighed, pulling his rolled up sleeves down to his wrists. He'd been in such a hurry when he left the bar that he hadn't brought a jacket. Before, he would just lean into Dennis and subtly steal his warmth, but even if he didn't feel weird about it now, Dennis was sitting so far away from him that he was having flashbacks to the day Dennis outright rejected him and just left.  
The driver pulled up to the curb and whipped around, gesturing at the front of the car. “Thirty-three seventy. Gimme the money and get out of my cab.”  
Mac rolled his eyes and waited for Dennis to start berating this idiot, maybe get them a cheaper fare, _definitely_ get them kicked out. But nothing happened. Dennis pulled out two twenties and gave them to the cabbie. He got out of the car and looked over his shoulder, brows furrowing. “Are you… are you coming?”  
Mac nodded dumbly, following behind Dennis and trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. Yeah, it had been years, but this was _Dennis._ Dennis, who was even now taking carefully measured out steps and pausing to look behind him like he was making sure Mac was still there. It was creeping Mac the fuck out. “Dude, are you in fucking trouble or some shit? Did you murder Mandy or the kid? Cause the first place the cops are gonna look is back here, and I don’t think the gang is gonna want to hide you. I mean, Charlie might get on board, but Dee and Frank- oh!”  
Dennis threw Mac against the hallway wall and grabbed his collar, kissing him hard. For a moment, Mac didn’t react. What the fuck was he supposed to do? But when he took a deep breath to steady himself, all he could smell was Dennis, and fuck, wasn’t this his biggest fantasy for years? He wrapped his arms around Dennis’ neck, while Dennis nudged Mac’s legs apart with his knee and slid his hands down around Mac’s ass. Mac went to wrap his legs around Dennis’ waist but swore loudly, pushing Dennis back. “We’re forty-four years old, Den,” he panted, aching in his jeans like a fucking hormonal teenager, leaning his head back against the wall. “Too old to make out in the hallway.”  
Dennis considered that, then grabbed Mac’s hand and started running. What was Mac to do but follow behind him, like he’d been doing for most of their lives?  
Dennis’ shaky hands struggled with the door, and Mac pushed him out of the way, quickly unlocking it, pulling Dennis through, and slamming it shut. He grabbed Dennis by his shirt and pulled him close, breathing hard and searching for any sign that Dennis was going to back out. “Are we actually going to follow through, Den?” He breathed, backing him up until Dennis’ thighs hit the bed. “Don't start shit you don't want to finish. You always teased me before, till I came out, and I never understood why until later. You could make me hard and aching and rely on me being in the closet so you never had to close the deal. But I'm not your fucking plaything anymore.” He bit Dennis’ lip, squeezing his hip so hard he knew Dennis would have bruises later. So maybe he was taking out all his anger and sexual frustration at the same time, who cares. “Now… now I'm not afraid. Now, _I’m_ the one with experience in this.”  
Dennis groaned, arching his back and showing more life than he'd shown all night. He looked right into Mac’s eyes, unflinchingly honest. “I love you, Mac.”  
Mac swore, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, turning away from Dennis. He screamed in frustration, rubbing his eyes, before whipping back around and glaring at Dennis. Why was he saying this, now? When Mac had his fucking life together? Why couldn't they have had this interaction four _fucking_ years ago?  
_Breathe, just breathe,_ his mantra was interrupted by the white hot fury he felt, and suddenly his fist was raised. He struck blindly, heavy sobs falling from his lips. His knuckles just caught Dennis’ jaw. “Fuck you for leaving me!”  
Mac barely had time to register Dennis’ hand moving before he had a fist in his face, and blood poured from his nose. Dennis pressed his body against Mac’s, whispering fiercely. “And fuck you for not stopping me. Fuck you, Mac. Fuck you for making me love you. Fuck you for being so fucking interesting that I spent high school hanging out with Ronnie the Rat and Dirtgrub. Fuck you for kissing me and fucking liking it the day I left for college. Fuck you for running to Jesus after, and burying yourself so deep in the closet and in religion that you actively marched against your fucking self. Fuck you for only realizing the truth when we were _dying._  
“You're pissed because _I_ left _you_? You never let me in, kept us apart with your ‘no homo’ shtick. Then all of a sudden you want me again? I was working through shit, you fucking asshole.” Dennis paused, breathing heavy, a flicker of pain betraying how hurt he had been. His voice got impossibly small, and he sounded so fucking broken. “You didn't ask me to stay.”  
Mac’s laugh was a little hysterical. “You wanted me to ask you to stay?” Tears welled in his eyes and he angrily wiped them away. “Are you fucking kidding me? Neither of us deserved to be stuck here. I wasn't going to be the reason your fuckin’ kid didn't have a dad, like me.” He scowled. “Even if it is you.”  
Dennis looked a little like something fragile that had been shattered and pieced back together so carefully that, unless you looked too closely, it was almost like the break had never happened. But Mac was a master of looking too fucking closely these days, and all he could see were the cracks in the facade, pressurized fissures sealed with gorilla glue that still wasn't strong enough to hold in what had been building up. Dennis put his hands on either side of Mac's face, gently caressing the stubble-roughened cheeks, just enough for it to tickle. “Mac… make me feel real again.”  
Mac couldn’t speak. Which probably wasn't a bad thing, because he was sure he would have said something embarrassing and ruined the whole thing. Instead, he gently pressed his lips against Dennis’ and marveled silently at just how much their situations had reversed since the last time they had been this close.  
Dennis grasped at Mac’s chest and came up with fistfuls of his henley, yanking the fabric uselessly, trying to convey his desires with his eyes which was making him look a little like a chimp imitating human expressions, but Mac couldn't have cared less. Love is blind, after all.  
Mac gently pried Dennis’ fingers away from his shirt, tugging it off and revealing a much more muscled stomach than Dennis remembered. His shock must have shown on his face because Mac flushed, his lips curving up into a shy smile. “Uh, I started working out… for real. Like, with a trainer.” He shrugged, his chest puffing up with pride. “I'm a bouncer now.”  
Dennis smirked, wrapping his arms around Mac’s neck. “My big, strong man,” he murmured, caressing Mac’s toned bicep. “Love me, Mac. Make me yours.”  
Mac was all too happy to oblige.

—————————————————

“Fuck, the whole gang has been calling,” Mac muttered, rolling over and scrolling through his messages. “Even Dee’s texting me. Fuck, I better check in or they'll send in the SWAT team.”  
Dennis rolled his eyes, throwing an arm around Mac’s waist and laying his head on Mac’s shoulder. “It's barely been seven hours. Let them stew.”  
Mac shook his head, sighing. Dennis didn’t get it. “That’s not- I can’t do that. Okay? That isn’t how it works anymore. As of arbitration #15-WD, anyone who storms off without any warning is required to check in within twelve hours or be subjected to severe torment. Otherwise known as Charlie’s hygiene regimen.” Even the thought of it made him cringe. He rolled his eyes and added quietly, “And as of the last three arbitrations, I've been labeled a flight risk."  
Dennis frowned, biting Mac’s bicep lightly. “When did letters get added to the arbitration system? And we’re way past fifteen, we passed fifteen on the first day we started solving our problems in-house.”  
Mac’s chest tightened, and he closed his eyes. He was not going to explain what ‘WD’ meant. He just wasn’t, and that was that. “We were getting pretty up there and it was getting hard for Charlie to keep track, so there was a new system put in place, it’s a whole thing.” He waved his hand vaguely and shrugged. “The point is, I need to call them.”  
“I was gone for three days,” Dennis mused quietly, tapping his long fingers on Mac’s side. Mac resisted a grin, because that fucking tickled, and settled for a noncommittal grunt. “Three whole days before I got a phone call, asking me where the fuck I was, telling me that my tantrum had lasted long enough.”  
It had been four long years but Mac still knew Dennis, and he knew that tone his voice took when he was upset about something but tried to act casual about it. It almost always ended up with Dennis blowing up and Mac running around like an improved FEMA, collecting survivors and setting up Red Cross tents to try and sift through the wreckage. He needed to try and salvage this situation before Dennis erupted like Pompeii. “Yeah,” Mac started, his voice soft. “Yeah, you were. We didn’t think you’d left for real.”  
Dennis huffed angrily, rolling over to the other side of the bed, taking the blankets with him. Mac rolled his eyes, falling over onto his back. His eyes closed and he rubbed his forehead. “‘WD’ means ‘without Dennis’, idiot. We decided on that after Dee called you.”  
Dennis froze, taking a moment before thawing out again and rolling back over, covering Mac’s chest with his body. He wriggled his way underneath Mac’s arm, fitting his head in the space between Mac’s head and shoulder. “So, you have an arbitration file named after me?”  
Mac rolled his eyes; same old vain Den. “More like the lack of you, but, yeah, I guess. Now can I call them?”  
Dennis preened, a slight smile on his lips. “I suppose.”  
“Okay, but shut up, okay? I… I don’t want to share you yet.” Mac was staring at his phone, and therefore missed the look on Dennis’ face, but when he recounted the story later, he insisted it was spectacular. A look of complete adoration. He tapped the screen, muttering under his breath before holding the phone to his ear. “Hey, Charlie. Calm down, I’m fine! Fuck, Charlie, put Dee on the phone? Go get a drink or something, or a paper bag. Do your breathing.” He shuffled the phone to his other ear, making a face at Dennis. “Sup, Dee? Fuck you, too. Yeah, yeah, ‘you’re docking my pay.’ boohoo, tell somebody who cares. Remember I’m one of the _owners_. Yeah, whatever.”  
Mac paused, shifting uncomfortably, glancing down at Dennis and making a face. “Hold on, okay?” He covered the speaker, then whispered to Dennis, “I’ll be right back,” slid out of the bed, and locked himself in the bathroom.  
“ _Fuck_ me, _dickweed, did you go home with another man? Again, Mac? You’ve got a good thing going for you, and you throw it away for these Dennis lookalike losers-_ ”  
“First of all, you’re right, fuck you, except that’s Charlie’s chore. Second of all, arbitration 48-WD, bitch, don’t talk to me about him, or my love life. _Tres_ , maybe I picked up another Dennis lookalike, it’s none of your business. I only called so I wouldn’t have to be Charlie for a day, because if I had to sleep next to you, I’d kill myself.”  
Dee seethed. “ _Charlie is a lucky goddamned man, Ronald, you should be so lucky as to experience slumber next to a divine goddess such as myself-_ ”  
Mac cut her off again. “I have, fuckwit, and let me tell you, it wasn’t all that great. And stop calling me that!”  
Dee let out a snort of laughter. “ _Still mad because I had to sleep in the middle and experienced your freakish morning boner and moaning my brother’s name?_ ”  
“That is not what this is about!” Mac cried hotly, half way to stamping his foot on the cracked linoleum. “You were supposed to strike that from memory!”  
“ _Whatever, boner. Do you want me to lie to your boyfriend for you, or will whatever twink that looks like my brother be quiet long enough for you to assure him that you're not dead?_ ”  
Mac pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do not talk to Adam.” Or Addy Wylde, when his drag queen boyfriend was on stage. “Just… leave me alone. Don't bring this up again. Please don't tell Charlie or Frank.”  
“ _Too late, Charlie’s been sitting beside me this whole time. I can't guarantee that he won't say anything to Frank, but I'll do my best_.” Dee’s voice gentled, and Mac bristled at the lecture he knew would follow. “ _Mac… he isn't coming back._ ”  
Mac glanced behind him, his heart beating faster. He had to remind himself that Dennis was safe in the hotel bed, in Philly, where he belonged. “Shut up, Dee.”  
“ _Mac, I'm not going to coddle you anymore. You need to move on, and Adam is good for you._ ” This is normally where the rest of the gang would stop, and let Mac keep at least a shred of his dignity, but Dee was relentless. “ _When was Dennis ever good for you? When you were beating each other up because he'd had a bad day and took it out on you, because you were so in fucking love with him you would have done anything? Or when you went on your gay dates and you got everything but Dennis himself, which he gave to every skank within the tri-state area? Or every other time he abandoned you in favor of himself? Or maybe when he left you for a baby he had no emotional connection to, just to get away from you?_ ”  
Mac couldn't take it anymore, he roared unintelligibly until Dee hung up on him. It was a combination of some good old fashioned blind rage and a little trick he learned from Charlie.  
Mac braced his hands against the cool countertop, staring at his reflection with bloodshot eyes. Watching himself be pitiful was one of the only ways he had to stop himself from crying. It took him fifteen minutes of short, puffy breaths and a few escaped sobs, but he finally managed to get himself together. He wiped his eyes, nudging the door open and shuffling into the open space of the main room.  
Something Mac did not expect to see was Dennis sitting up in the bed, arms crossed and a firm scowl on his lips. And he definitely did not expect the venomous words that dripped from his tongue. “‘Dennis lookalikes’?” He spat, pushing the covers off and scooting to the end of the bed. “Did you try to fucking _replace me, Ronald Mac-Fucking-Donald?!”_


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the real world

“Don't fucking call me that!” Mac snapped, carefully avoiding the real issue. The lookalikes were his new guilty pleasure, what he confessed about on Sundays now that he had accepted being gay in the first place.  
“Why?” Dennis seethed. “It's your goddamn name, isn't it? Oh, but I see now. Going by your fake name, faking being straight for forty years, fucking fake Dennises… how do I even know that you're really gay?” He was spiraling; he could admit it. That didn't stop his emotions from going overboard and threatening to choke him when he thought about everything they did last night, but replacing himself with a pale version of the original.  
Mac had had enough. He grabbed Dennis’ arm and pulled him close, eyeing his crotch meaningfully. “You really want a goddamn answer to that question?” Dennis didn't look any less stubborn despite the fact that Mac was already hard for him, so Mac added grudgingly, “Listen, would I have taken it up the ass for you if I wasn't gay as shit?”  
Dennis scowled, ripping himself from Mac’s grasp. “That's not the point! Of course you're gay, we've known that for years, decades really. The _point_ , is that you're actively trying to fucking replace me!”  
“You've been gone for four years, bro.” Mac raised a brow, rubbing the back of his neck. “Honestly, I really didn't think the hookups would bother you that much. I figured it would be the boyfriend that would make you lose your shit.”  
Dennis’ eyes popped out of his skull. “ _Boyfriend?!_ ” He wheezed, holding his chest like his heart was going to pop out. There was a _boyfriend?!_  
Mac shrugged. “You've been gone for four years,” he repeated slowly. Did Dennis not expect him to move on, especially when there was no indication that he would come back? “Adam… I found him. Or he found me, I guess. Almost two years ago, maybe? He chased me, for a while.” He cleared his throat, looking away. “Felt kinda nice. Being chased.”  
_Adam._ The competition had a _name_. “Chasing someone is ridiculous. There's no point if you give away your intent before you even know if they want you. Why do you think the sex tape girls got cut off after I had no use for them? They chased _me_ , and all I wanted from them was a cheap fuck. It was a game to me.” He looked up, more gaunt than Mac had seen him, his voice hoarse. His own words seemed to confuse him. “It was a goddamn _game_ , Mac.”  
Mac was not good at a lot of things, especially reading into all the shit Dennis said and getting the underlying subtext, but this, this seemed pretty goddamn clear. “So,” he started, his voice shaking, “so. This, this was a game to you?” He paused, and added, “ _I_ was a game to you?”  
Dennis squeezed his eyes shut and looked away. “Don't you understand? Oh, of course you don't.” He sat down on the bed, like he was in a slo-mo sequence. “When people chase me, it’s adorable. Adorable, because I could crush them and their hopes, and in a way, I do that, because once I get what I want, I'm done. So, I know what it’s like to be the chased. And… and I know I don't want _that_. So my point is…” he looked up at Mac, staring at him with those dead eyes. “Are you done, Mac? Have you gotten what you wanted?”  
Mac’s mouth opened and closed comically, and he couldn't for the life of him make any words come out. _He_ was the one being chased in this scenario? So that meant that Dennis… _oh_. Suddenly, a lot of things started to make sense. He reached out, rubbing Dennis’ shoulder gently and taking his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I'll break up with Adam. This thing with us… it's more important. You're more important.”  
Dennis’ composure softened, and he leaned into Mac’s touch, clearly exhausted. Mac chuckled, pushing Dennis back onto the mattress and pulling him against his chest. “Sleep, Den. We’ll figure it all out later. All you need to know is that I'm yours.”

_———————————————————_

After he got Dennis calmed down and sleeping, Mac left him in his hotel room and headed home to get ready for work. He really needed to think about shit.   
Mac thanked the cabbie quietly, slipping out of the car and heading up the stairs. His neighbors mostly ignored him, even though they preferred him to the previous apartment owner. His apartment was his sanctuary, the place he could get away from everything. Even his boyfriend didn't stay over; they slept over at Adam’s place instead. It was a point of contention between them, but Mac wasn't about to fill the place with memories of someone he cared about, he'd done that once already.  
He popped in the shower, letting the scalding water cleanse him from all the shit he'd done the night before. It usually worked after his one-night stands, helped him to face Adam at the bar, but the grimy feeling wasn't going away this time. He rubbed his skin raw, trying and failing to wash away his guilt.  
He liked Adam, he really did, and it didn't hurt that the sex was amazing, either. It was comfortable, but it wasn't right. Mac knew it, he was fairly certain Adam knew it too. Or he hoped, he hoped Adam wasn't more invested in this than he led on. He'd never intended to hurt Adam, but he couldn't stop himself from going home with every curly-haired effeminate twink he saw at the club, and he really didn't want to. Every one-night stand improved his mood for a few weeks at the most, a few days at the least.  
“Well here he comes,” Dee crowed, leaning back against the bar on one of their rickety bar stools, scowling at Mac as he walked through Paddy’s front door. She raised her brows. “Have a good night last night, Maccas?”  
Mac glared, aiming a kick at the legs of the stool, feeling slightly more satisfied when she wobbled dangerously. “Only Adam can call me that.” His Australian boyfriend thought it was a funny nickname, and Mac tolerated it. “And you know I did, so shut up.”  
“Baby!”  
Mac looked up, eyes wide like a deer in headlights as his boyfriend rushed out of the back office, encircling Mac’s lean frame in a hug.  
“Missed you last night… Dee told me they made you stay late to lock up, and you passed out after.” Adam smiled mischievously. “Maybe tonight we can duck out early and I can give you a massage?”  
Mac shifted uncomfortably, gently pushing Adam back. “Look… about that. I think we need to…-” He was saved from having to finish his sentence by Dee, interrupting him.  
“Oh, look at the time! Mac, aren’t you supposed to be doing something? That _isn’t_ distracting our very nice very _free_ accountant?” The look Dee was giving him left no illusions about her intentions. She smiled placatingly, patting Adam’s shoulder. “It’s Mac’s day to open, so he's a little busy right now.”  
Adam’s brows pulled together and he looked more than a little put out, but he nodded, heading back to the back office. Mac tried to care that Adam’s feelings were hurt, but he was more preoccupied with how he was going to deal with the Dennis situation. “Dee, what the fuck?” He hissed, once Adam was out of earshot.  
Dee rolled her eyes. “You were going to fuck everything up for us! Adam is making us money, Mac- he has the business sense that Frank doesn't, he's helped us increase profits enough that we’re comfortable. I am not going to let you mess that up for some goddamn twink!” She glared, pushing him towards the bar. “You were already comfortable cheating on him before, so why do you have to mess with a good thing, huh?”  
Mac’s back collided with the edge of the bar. “Because it isn't just some meaningless fuck this time, Deandra!”  
That certainly caught Dee off guard. She sighed, climbing back on her bar stool and siting with her head in her hands. “Well, shit. I did _not_ see that one coming.” She glanced up at Mac grumpily. “Tell me this one has some skills we can use for the bar, too.”  
Mac snickered, wiping down the bar counter. Some things never changed. 


End file.
